Dangerous Allies (The Ruby Danger Series Book 1) (9 page)

R
uby staggered into the bathroom
. Her nose had stopped bleeding, but her nightgown was drenched in blood. She pulled it over her head, stuffed it in the wastebasket, and turned on the shower.

Wincing as the cold water hit her face, she braced her hands against the sides of the shower stall and lowered her head. She stayed under the buffeting stream until the pain in her nose had dulled and her wrenching sobs had become soft hiccups.

She left the bathroom with her hair still wet, tossed her leather tote bag onto the bed, and opened the bureau drawers. Grabbing handfuls of clothing, she stuffed them into the bag. Antony would return, but not for hours. He might be apologetic by then, but she didn’t care. She had to get off this ship.

Maybe Pete Osler would help her.

She picked up the ship’s phone to call his room, paused, and replaced it without dialing. Pete was retired, but he was still a cop. If she and Quentin were implicated in Antony’s scam, he might report them both. She shuddered at the thought of leaving the ship in handcuffs. Especially with a paparazzo on hand. So much for the big career comeback.

Ruby pulled on khakis that had a silk scarf threaded through the belt loops, twisted the scarf in a loose knot, and tugged a T-shirt over her head. Her wallet was on the bed, but as she bent to pick it up the movement made the pounding in her head worse. She waited for the dizziness to ease. Then she pulled her credit cards from the wallet, tossing them one by one onto the bed, and riffled through her cash. She had less than a hundred dollars. The cards were linked to Antony’s accounts, so she couldn’t use them, which meant money would be a problem.

Fortunately, she knew where to find some.

In the den, she opened the safe and pulled out the leather box. The tiny gold key was missing. Perhaps she could find something in the bedroom to jimmy the lock. As she reached up with her left hand to close the safe door, the light from an overhead spot sparkled on her engagement ring. Ruby stared at the solitaire diamond.

All you ever wanted was my money.

Yanking off the ring, she threw it into the safe, slammed the door, and pushed the lock button.

Back in the bedroom, she bashed at the leather box with a nail file until the lock broke open. Then she packed the wrapped bundles of hundred-dollar bills into an empty makeup bag.

Three knocks boomed on the suite’s door, and she froze. Another knock sounded, followed by the lock’s electronic beep. The door into the hall opened and closed. Ruby looked frantically around.

Antony must be back.

She shoved the cash and the leather box into her tote bag and zipped it shut with trembling fingers. When she looked up, Mila stood in the bedroom door. Ruby stared at her.

“What are you—”

“Is that your bag?” Mila picked up the tote bag and headed for the door. “Your husband is on his way back,” she said over her shoulder.

“Wait. How did you know—?”

“That you had a fight?” Mila turned, lifting her eyebrows. “Everyone on two decks knows. We must hurry, he’s in the elevator.”

“Then he’ll be here in seconds. There’s no point. He’ll see us.”

Mila sprinted down the hall to the foyer and ducked out the Emperor Suite’s door with the leather tote bag slapping against her back.

“Wait,” Ruby called as she ran after her. Her head pounded with every step and she pressed both hands to her face, fearful her nose would bleed again.

Mila ran down the hall to the service elevator and inserted her key card. The elevator doors opened and she stepped in.

“Come on, hurry,” she hissed.

Ruby paused and then stumbled in after her. She couldn’t return the leather box as long as Antony was in the suite.

After traveling down several decks, Mila hurried down a carpeted corridor, past dozens of stateroom doors, with Ruby struggling to keep up. Mila stopped and inserted her card again, opening the door into a darkened stateroom. Ruby followed her in. Twin beds, separated by a night table, lined one wall and a small bureau hugged the opposite wall. A narrow passage between the beds and the bureau led to a sliding glass door, which opened onto a moonlit balcony.

“You can stay here for now,” Mila said, heaving the tote bag off her shoulder and dropping it on the floor. “This room is empty.”

Stumbling through the gloom, Ruby sank onto the nearest bed and held her throbbing head in her hands. Mila went into the bathroom and returned with a glass of water and a pill bottle. Handing Ruby the glass, she shook three tablets out of the bottle onto her palm and held them out to her.

“Take these.”

“What are they?”

“For pain.”

Ruby swallowed the tablets and lay down. Her side ached where Antony had tackled her and her face and arms burned. Mila took the ice bucket into the bathroom and emerged with a damp washcloth filled with ice. Ruby took it gratefully and put it over her face. Her mind drifted while she waited for the pills to work. She needed to sleep. Just … sleep.

G
roaning
, Ruby opened her eyes. The stateroom was in darkness except for moonlight glimmering through the balcony door. For a few seconds, she struggled to remember why her head throbbed so badly. Then she rolled over and put her feet on the floor, groaned again, and stumbled into the bathroom. She flipped on the light switch next to the mirror and recoiled at the sight of her swollen nose. Antony had been angry before, but never like that. Wincing, Ruby gently prodded her puffy face. Why had she let Mila talk her into this? Running away was not the answer.

She looked at her watch. Five a.m. Antony would be apologetic by now and he might tell her what was going on. She had to go back and sort things out. And the first thing she needed to sort out was that leather box. It had to be returned, pronto.

After splashing cold water on her face, she returned to the stateroom and zipped open her tote bag to retrieve the box. She took out her wallet and phone and then pulled out a sundress, her wigs, and several T-shirts. She tugged out the makeup bag stuffed with hundred-dollar bills. She yanked out items faster and faster, until the tote bag was empty and the floor littered with clothing, cash, and toiletries.

The leather box was gone. Along with twenty million dollars in bearer bonds.

Ruby slumped on the floor with her back against the bed, breathing raggedly and staring at the empty tote bag. Panic rose in her throat. Even if she told ship security that Mila took the bonds while she was sleeping, how would she prove it? No one had seen them leave the Emperor Suite together. Mila had already had plenty of time to hide the leather box. If Ruby accused her and Mila didn’t have it, Ruby would only brand herself as the thief. After all, she was the one who took it from the safe in the first place.

Not only that, but no one other than Antony knew the bonds even existed. He could dismiss Ruby’s allegations as a wild story concocted for publicity, and then confront her privately to demand she return the bonds. She flinched at the thought, slumping over with her head in her hands. Why did Antony have those bonds, anyway? It always came back to that.

She reached for the bag and began to stuff everything back in. As she picked up a red T-shirt, Pete’s photo of the woman in the red dress flashed through her mind. It had been blood, not dye, that made that dress red. Ruby paused with the T-shirt still in her hand, shuddering at the voices in her head.

They are watching you.

Mobsters, from Russia.

They’d cut your heart out without missing a beat.

Not me. You. It is you who are in trouble.

Her hands shook and she slumped onto the bed, clutching the tote bag. Mila was Russian. In fact, several of the crew were Russian. Some might belong to the—what had Pete called it? She frowned, trying to remember. The
vor v zakonye
. What if the twenty million in bonds were meant for them? A payment of some kind?

She shoved the bag to one side and rummaged through the items on the floor until she found the Hello Kitty bracelet. Ruby snapped it around her wrist. Whether organized crime was involved or not, Antony must have committed fraud. She would go to the SEC and let them figure it out.

The contemptuous look on Antony’s face flashed before her.

My money wasn’t enough for you two. You went after the company’s funds, too.

Ruby raised the back of her hand to her mouth, feeling queasy.

The SEC? Yes, great idea. And once they’d thrown both Quentin and her into jail the girls would be—what, sent to foster care? Her stomach churned, and she stumbled into the bathroom.

Afterward, she washed her face and reached for a towel. She stared in the mirror at the circles under her eyes, which were getting darker by the minute, and her red swollen nose. Dropping the towel on the floor, she leaned her arms on the sink and lowered her head. Ruby Delaney was gone, and she had to stay gone. At least until she could find Mila and get the bonds back.

After stuffing the last items into her tote bag, Ruby slung it over her shoulder and headed for the door. She stopped to listen to a low hum of conversation in the corridor. She put her ear against the door. There was a knock, a door opening down the hall, and muffled voices. The door closed. Then more knocking and another conversation, closer.

“When did you last see her?”

An inaudible reply.

“Please let us know if you remember anything else. Good night.” More knocking.

Ruby stepped back from the door. They were looking for her.

Her heart thumping, she looked around the tiny room. There was nowhere to hide. She darted through the open balcony door and leaned over the edge, gripping the railing to stop her hands from shaking. The balcony below was flush with this one. In the darkness far below, water surged by. From the stateroom behind her came a loud knock. Then another. And a third.

Time to move.

Bending over the narrow metal railing, she swung her tote bag once, twice, and let it go. It landed on the balcony railing below and perched there. Ruby held her breath until the bag tipped and fell onto the balcony floor with a plop.

The knocks on the stateroom door grew louder.

She stepped over the balcony railing, settling her toes on the few inches of concrete ledge that jutted out on the other side. Hooking her left arm around the railing, she pulled the silk scarf from her belt loops with her other hand. She looped it around a steel baluster, tied a knot and gave it a tentative tug. It would have to do.

Gripping the scarf in her right hand, she sank to her knees and waited for her breathing to slow. Then, with her left hand clutching the railing, she tugged the knot in the scarf down the baluster. With a deep breath, she let go of the railing and slipped her toes off the ledge.

She dropped, wrenching both shoulders, and clung to the scarf as her feet flailed for the balcony railing on the next deck. Voices shouted in the stateroom above. Far below, the ship’s powerful backwash churned through the water. And over her head, silk started to rip.

Her left foot touched the railing, her toes curling over it, and then her right. Angling her knees in and pushing back with her feet, she tumbled into the balcony just as the fabric tore through. She slammed onto the floor with a grunt and rolled on her side, the torn scarf clutched in her hand.

Ruby scuttled back against the wall, gasping for breath. The painful thumps of her heart felt like a fist striking her chest.

Footsteps sounded overhead.

“There’s nobody here,” a man called.

“Okay. We’re moving on,” a fainter voice replied.

Two men remained on the balcony above. Judging by their voices, they were leaning on the railing. Her tote bag had landed near the balcony’s edge, where anyone who peered over the railing could see it. Holding her breath, she reached for the handle and inched the bag closer. Cigarette smoke wafted past.

“What happens if we can’t find her?”

“If they think she’s gone overboard, the captain will stop the ship.”

“Would we go back?”

“I dunno. Maybe.”

“What did Bogdan say?”

“He’s plenty pissed. He says that screwup should have been keeping a better eye on her.”

Ruby jerked her head around as a curtain fluttered in the open door beside her. With a hand over her mouth, she strained to hear the conversation on the balcony above.

“About time golden boy got a little payback. What else did he say?”

“He was screaming pretty good, but most of it was in Russian so I didn’t catch it. He gave him a couple good thumps though.”

“Do you think he’ll do anything else about it?”

“Nah. You know how they are. Family.”

“Come on. Get rid of that and let’s go.”

The red glow of a lit cigarette soared past and then a balcony door rasped shut above her. Ruby stuffed the torn scarf into her tote bag with a trembling hand, ducked under the billowing curtain and crept on her hands and knees into the stateroom beyond. The only light in the room came from the moonlight shimmering through the door and the bluish glow of a digital alarm clock by the bed. Crouching on the carpet, she rubbed her aching wrists, looked down to assess her skinned knees, and froze. There was another noise in the room, louder even than the water outside.

Holding her breath, she turned to look at the bed. There were two figures in it, one a middle-aged man in pajama bottoms and bare chest. He lay on his back, arms stretched out, with his mouth wide open. And he was snoring like a hippo with a head cold.

Gaggh. Snork. Gaggh.

With a gasp, the man stopped breathing and Ruby’s own breath caught in her throat. A few seconds later, he snorted loudly and started to breathe again.

Snrkx. Gaggh. Snrkx.

Ruby tiptoed to the door, her heart in her mouth. Every time the figures in the bed shifted or an arm flopped over the side of the mattress, she halted, not daring to breathe. On her way past the bureau, she snatched up a pair of reading glasses and a floppy sun hat.

In the corridor, she softly closed the door behind her and put a hand across her mouth to stifle a giggle. Even in the hall the snores were audible.